Rooftop Gourmet

Seth Kunin has been making wine in California since 1998, and he pays tribute to the Old World Chateauneauf-du-Pape with his 2007 Pape Star from the Central Coast. This wine is a blend of Grenache, Mourvedre, and Syrah just like in the northern Rhone Valley, France except it’s expressive of the Central Coast of California; which gives it a slightly modern twist.

 Most of the time, I pair a wine with whatever I’m making for dinner, but tonight I picked the wine first. I had some extra time, so I walked through Whole Foods with no concrete plans, just an idea of the style and character of the Pape Star.

I strolled past the meat counter and these beautiful, pink veal chops immediately caught my eye. Veal is slightly more delicate than beef and would be a match made in heaven for the medium bodied red.

The Pape Star has smooth tannins and tons of cherry, raspberry and currant flavors with a hint of spice in the finish from the Mourvedre. It’s extremely smooth and gentle on the palate and has some bright acidity, reminiscent of blood oranges.

I wanted to showcase the plump veal chops by limiting the other ingredients I put on the plate, so I stuck with roasted yams to add an element of sweetness to the dish. I made a rich Dijon Mustard sauce freshened up by a fine chiffonade of fresh basil.

The combination of basil and mustard is something new that I had never tried but it worked very nicely with the succulent veal and the char from the grill. It reminded me of Dijon mustard sloshed on a charred Italian sausage from a cart outside of Fenway, only slightly more elegant.

On my way to checkout, I walked past a basket of heirloom tomatoes that were all different sizes, shapes and colors and I just couldn’t resist. I grabbed a bunch of them along with some blood oranges to make a salad.

There are millions of different varieties of heirloom tomatoes (too many to keep track of) with all sorts of funny names that sound like CareBear characters; I think I grabbed some Green Zebras and Big Rainbows.

I sliced the multi-colored orbs nice and thin, and showered them with blood orange zest, blood orange supremes, extra virgin olive oil, and a sprinkle of fancy sea salt crystals. The essential oils in the zest brought the juicy tomatoes to life and added an interesting flavor to the salad. I seasoned the chops and headed out into the cold to throw them on the grill.

They only took about 5 minutes on each side before they were medium in temperature, and I brought them in to rest. The chops were very well marbled for such a young animal and they were loaded with flavor, giving the Pape Star a run for its money as the star of the night.

 Cooking is like therapy for me. Whenever I have a long, stressful day, I come home, turn down the oven and slow cook something for hours. Not only is slow cooking beneficial for the protein, but it’s also therapeutic for the mind and soul. The result is a tender and juicy piece of meat, along with a  home-cooked feeling of comfort and satisfaction. Last night, I made a slow roasted Porchetta, which is a culinary tradition in Tuscany.

 There are many variations of Porchetta but it’s basically a whole pig or boneless pork roast that is seasoned with garlic, rosemary, fennel seeds and other herbs, which is then slow cooked for hours; it was introduced to Americans as “Italian pulled pork”. In Italy, Porchetta is sold by pitchmen out of carts or vans during holidays and public gatherings; basically, the Italian version of an ice cream truck that pulls up to your little league games.

The slow cooking (225 degrees) process keeps the meat moist and gets the outer layers of fat nice and crispy. I bought an end cut of loin and liberally seasoned it with salt, fresh cracked black pepper, garlic, rosemary, sage and toasted fennel seeds that I pulsed in the food processor.

 If this wasn’t a last minute dinner idea, I would have marinated it for a couple of days in this mixture to really intensify the flavor. I was really screwing with my oven’s mind by cranking it up to 550 degrees to start in order to get a nice crust on the pork, then turning it down to 225 degrees for the remainder of the cooking process. The whole process takes about two hours, so I had plenty of time to relax and get everything else prepped. I made a rich sauce with a reduction of Calvados (Apple Brandy), beef broth, shallots and butter.

The light brown, silky textured sauce was reminiscent of a Cognac-laced gravy. I then sauteed some shaved fennel and celery to serve with the pork, along with some caramelized shallots and bing cherries for a touch of added sweetness.

I paired this dish with one of my favorite Tuscan wines, the 2006 Avignonesi Vino Nobile di Montepulciano because its flavors remind me of the ingredients I used to create this meal. The wine is jumping with acidity and emits tons of fresh cherry aromas on the nose. The tannins are smooth and the wine is rich with underlying hints of fresh herbs, licorice(fennel), and spice.

 It’s medium bodied and low in alcohol which pairs perfectly with the succulent roasted pig.

 The wine is made up of primarily Sangiovese (locally known as Prugnolo gentile), and a blend of a few other locally grown grapes, followed by minimum two years in oak barrels. After the internal meat thermometer read about 155 degrees, I removed the pork from the oven and let it rest for about 10 minutes, allowing the internal juices to recirculate.

Two thick slabs of melt-in-your-mouth-pork later and my day was instantly improved. The minced garlic on the outside of the meat slowly caramelized over the two hour stint in the oven and balanced nicely with the piney rosemary and mouth-watering pork fat. Plenty of leftovers made for an amazing Porchetta Panini for lunch today; maybe one day someone will start driving a Porchetta truck like in the old country. Forget the children, I’d be the one running down the street after it.

 When I was forced to wear gloves during my ride to work while waiting for my heat to kick on, I knew it was that time of year to make a huge batch of stick-to-your-ribs chili. There’s nothing like a spicy bowl of chili on a cold winter night to make you forget that the thermometer reads 21 degrees. I have made countless different types of chili over the years (and was even involved in a chili cookoff) but this is by far my favorite and the most comforting.

Texans will tell you that authentic Lone Star state chili has no beans in it, just beef… and lots of it.

 I stopped by Whole Foods on the way home from work and bought four pounds of beef chuck stew meat. Whenever I cook chili, I always make a large enough batch so that I can freeze individual portions and reheat them for quick dinners. Chuck meat is best for this chili because it’s flavorful and tough but after hours of slow cooking, the fibrous meat breaks down and literally melts in your mouth.

 I like to sear the beef cubes in the pot first, then remove them before I start sweating the aromatics; it gives me some time to wipe the tears off of my face after dicing three large yellow onions. I also add about six cloves of garlic and a half dozen fresh jalapenos. Sometimes if I’m feeling like a masochist I’ll toss in a few Habanero chilies to burn off my taste buds but I wanted to make a tame batch this time around.

 Heat from chilies are measured by the level of capsaicin in the seeds and skin and are placed on a scale called the Scoville scale. The more Scoville units a chili has, the more fire it produces (a jalapeno only has between 2,500 -8,000 out of about 10 million). After all of the aromatics are soft, I add some tomato paste and then the dried spices.

Usually it’s about 2 parts chili powder to 1 part cumin, with a splash of cayenne, dried oregano, and my secret ingredient… cinnamon. Just a pinch of cinnamon will leave people scratching their heads as to what that underlying flavor is. I never cook with any wine that I wouldn’t drink by itself, and the same goes for when I cook with beer. Once all the alcohol is cooked off, what you’re left with is flavor, so I never skimp on what is going into the pot.

 I decided to use one of my favorite specialty beers, the Innis & Gunn Oak aged beer from Scotland. This beer has layers of complexity from aging the suds in mature oak casks, previously used to make bourbon. Flavors of vanilla, toffee, and orange peel make this rich beer perfect for chili. I deglazed the pot with the beer and some beef stock, then added the meat back in for a long simmering session. After about two unbearable hours on the stovetop waiting for it to thicken and tenderize, I was ready to get myself a bowl.

The chili was steaming hot and the entire apartment smelled like a cowboy’s campfire. The only thing this ‘bowl of red’ needed was a glass of red. I paired the chili with the 2006 Franz Hill Vineyards Zinfandel from California. I chose red Zinfandel because it almost reminds me of chili; big, powerful, meaty, and peppery.

The tannins aren’t too strong which would clash with the heat and it’s loaded with tons of ripe berry flavors. Don’t get me wrong though, this isn’t your pop and go everyday Zinfandel. The Franz Hill is sophisticated and somewhat reminiscent of a French Rhone wine. The only downside to slow-cooking chili is once you’re finished and satisfied, it’s time to break out a box of S.O.S pads.

When I think about breakfast, I picture mountains of eggs laced with cheese, over flowing bacon, and hashbrowns to sop up the remaining yolk and pork fat. My girlfriend, Siobhan on the other hand has a sweet tooth and loves her pancakes, waffles, and French toast covered in sticky syrup. On Sunday morning, Siobhan got her way and I ventured into a realm of cooking that I have never really dabbled in.

Of course I didn’t want to start my IHOP debut with plain old French toast so I had to spice things up a bit. One healthy breakfast food that I am quite fond of is granola mixed into plain Greek yogurt so I tried to incorporate that flavor into the dish.

Since this was my first time making French toast, the pink grapefruit juice and Prosecco mimosa helped me get through it. I grabbed a huge loaf of fresh sourdough bread from the bakery and cut it into thick “Texas toast” sized slices.

After soaking the bread in some egg and milk mixture I encrusted the slices in nut & honey granola before they went into the frying pan with melted butter (now we’re talking). There’s something about maple syrup that grosses me out. Maybe because it’s super sweet, maybe because its really sticky, or maybe because the kid who sat across from my in fourth grade had pancakes every morning and his breath reeked of it and his fingers were always gross and sappy.

I can’t figure it out, but I have never liked maple syrup. Siobhan decided to compromise with me on this one and let me make fresh raspberry infused maple syrup. I simply cooked down fresh raspberries with some sugar and water, before drizzling in some Grade A, New Hampshire maple syrup.

I took out the trusty boat motor and gave the mixture a few pulses to make sure the sauce was nice and smooth. After the toast was cooked and the granola adhered to the bread I plated the two oversized pieces with some fresh cantaloupe. A healthy drizzle of the raspberry infused syrup and a huge dollop of tangy Greek yogurt topped everything off.

The granola not only added a sweet, honey and nutty flavor to the toast, it also changed the texture of the French toast (there’s one thing I hate more than French toast and that’s soggy French toast). I made the mimosas with Mionetto “il Prosecco” which is a great inexpensive Prosecco (kind of an oxymoron), that comes sealed with a bottle cap. Prosecco is Italys’ version of sparkling wine or champagne.

They range from bone dry to slightly fruity but no where close to as sweet as Piedmont’s Asti Spumante. The slightly bitter grapefruit juice was a nice compliment to the fruity bubbles and what better drink to pair with a Sunday morning brunch. I think I am actually coming around on this whole syrup phobia thing too because I licked my plate clean.

Moules Frites is the French name for the classic combination of mussels and french fries. Pronounced ‘mools freets’, this pairing has taken on all sorts of adaptations over the years. As the prime mussel harvesting season comes to a close, I decided to make my own version of the dish.

 I picked up two sacks of Maine mussels at Whole Foods and threw them on ice in the back of my car. Remember, when you buy mussels they’re still alive so always keep them chilled and do not seal the plastic bag that they come in or else they will suffocate. To save me some time meticulously cutting russet potatoes into perfect strips for the french fries, I broke out one of my Christmas presents; a French mandolin.

 A mandolin is a guillotine looking contraption that has all sorts of sharp blades and attachments that produces any type of cut, slice, or shape you can possibly imagine. It’s like a grown up version of the Play Doh maker without the rainbows and purple spaghetti.

After watching the video tutorial, I managed to produce about two pounds of perfectly identical french fries without losing a finger. After my huge pot of canola oil came to perfect frying temperature (325 degrees), I started dropping in the potato planks in small batches to prevent sticking.

 Most people are afraid to deep-fry at home but if you get a candy thermometer and monitor the temperature of the oil, it is pretty simple.

 I was going for a Thai inspired version of this dish so when the fries came out of the hot oil, I tossed them in red curry powder and chopped, fresh cilantro.

The mussels needed a quick shave, or de-bearding before they got cooked; mussels have a small “beard” that sticks out of the shell that needs to be removed before you cook them. Simply pinch it and tug it out. Most of my mussels only had a four o’clock shadow and didn’t need much cleaning so I rinsed them under cold water and set them aside so I could build the broth. I started by sauteing some shallots and garlic in olive oil until they were soft. Then I added a heaping tablespoon of red curry paste, lime juice, coconut milk, and fresh basil.

 Once the broth came to a simmer, I added the mussels and put the lid on for them to steam.

 All of these flavors started to come together and filled the air of my apartment; the acidity of the lime juice balanced out the creamy, sweet coconut milk and the heat from the curry paste was tamed by the fresh basil. Once all of the shells had opened, I served the entire meal in the pan I cooked them in with some lime wedges and sliced green onions. Sometimes I just get in the mood to roll up my sleeves and get my hands dirty when it comes to lobster, peel and eat shrimp, or in this case… a huge bowl of mussels.

The fries were extra crispy on the outside but still cooked perfectly in the middle; delicious when dipped into the coconut milk.

 I chose a crisp, refreshing white wine to pair with this meal because there was just so much flavor going on already. The 2007 Fournier Sauvigion Blanc from the Loire Valley was perfect. Like I mentioned before, whites from this region of France are some of the best valued wines around.

 The great acidity complimented the shellfish and subtle flavors of grapefruit and wet stone lingered on the finish. This is a great inexpensive wine for bivalves or seafood in general, that tastes like an expensive Sancerre. I was fortunate that all of the flavorful broth was sopped up before we broke into the second pound of french fries or else my mussels would be turning into fat.